witness protection
by Grey Foxes
Summary: in which the winchesters are, for once, aren't the liars, crowley is still crowley but crowley isn't crowley and never was crawly and aziraphale is as much as a filthy liar as crowley is.
1. Chapter 1

Sam Winchester knew, somehow, that when Lucifer changes out of Jessica's body into a middle-aged blonde man, that isn't him. It's not Lucifer.

The angel, or whatever it is, starts to lie.

Sam isn't sure how he knows this.

"What the hell?" There's a new voice, and not-Lucifer freezes for a split second before slowly turning the direction of the voice. Sam turns, following not-Lucifer's line of sight. The speaker is a tall, tanned dark-haired man wearing sunglasses. He was scowling. "Get out." He snaps, glaring at not-Lucifer.

"Crowley," Not-Lucifer fairly snarls, and Crowley stiffens, looking startled for a brief, surprised instant. "What are you _doing_?"

"You called me Crowley," Crowley says, apparently surprised, "You've- never mind that." Crowley scowls, fingering his sunglasses. "What in the seven he-heav-somethings are you doing?" He pauses again. Looks at Sam. "Not here."

"Right," Lucifer scoffs, but vanishes anyway. Crowley looks at Sam again, something indescribable in his gaze, and follows after Lucifer.

(crowley always was in the garden.)

(that bit never changes)

(aziraphale always is at the gates)

(that never changes either)


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Sam sees Crowley, it's at a bookstore. Crowley is hissing something at the blonde owner, sunglasses firmly in place. The owner doesn't look impressed.

Dean's flirting with some redhead, and gives him an unimpressed glance without stopping flirting. He rolls his eyes when Sam points out where he'll be, but nods in acknowledgement when the woman giggles and pulls out her phone.

Sam wanders into the bookshop. Both men stiffen, despite neither of them spotting him. Crowley pushes his sunglasses further up his nose, waves off the owner, and vanishes into the stacks. Sam approaches the owner and hears the bell ring out as Crowley exits the shop. "Can I help you?" The owner asks. He seems very untidy, and his glasses glint in the light.

"Christo," Sam coughs.

"Sorry?" The owner asks, biting his lip. His name tag reads A. PHALE.

"What titles do you recommend?" Sam asks, smiling charmingly.

Phale's eyes light up as in realization. "Oh," he breathes out. "Actually, I'm closing up."

"Sammy?" Dean's voice rings out in the shop and Aziraphale _flinches_. "Dude, stop flirting, we gotta go."

Aziraphale smiles charmingly at him. "Please do."

The shop is closed up seconds after they leave, all the shutters closed.

"Is it just me," Dean asks, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Or is that incredibly weird?"

The store doesn't reply. "Yeah," Sam said, "It was."

When they return after the ghost hunt they originally came for, the bookstore is now a pleasant coffee shop, and nobody remembers it.

(but you see, stories change)

(crowley still gives eve the apple)

(but crowley isn't really crowley)

(and aziraphale isn't really aziraphale)

(names matter)


	3. Chapter 3

**author's note: *laughs maniacally as everyone gets even more confused***

"Get going boys."

Ellen looks tired. Jo looks scared. Terrified even.

"Don't." It's a new voice, and Sam immediately recognizes it. Crowley. "Bloody fuck, this is a right mess."

Dean levels the shotgun at him. Crowley raises his hands mockingly. He's in a sharp three-piece suit with his sunglasses firmly on his nose. "How'd you get in?"

"Does it matter?" Crowley's irritated. "Really? We don't have _time for this_." He sniffs, looks at Jo and raises an eyebrow. "Oh." Crowley purses his lips. "The salt's still there."

"Christo." Ellen snaps out.

"Boo." Crowley retorts, clearly bored. He keeps his attention split between Jo and Sam. "This is pathetic." Crowley sighs. He looks around and starts slowly moving towards a shelf.

"I don't hear them anymore." Jo says suddenly. "The hounds. They aren't scratching at the door."

Sam cautiously moves towards a window. "You won't be able to see them." Crowley says, the 'idiot' loudly and clearly implied. Sam gives him a flat look and unscrews the flask of holy water, allowing it to drip slowly on the ground. There is no yelp of pain.

"How did you do that?" Sam demands, rescrewing the flask and tucking back into his jacket. Crowley doesn't reply, preoccupied with checking his obviously overpriced watch.

"Answer him." Dean snaps. Ellen cocks her shotgun.

Crowley gives the room a flat look. "He's late," Crowley announces, to the room in general. He checks the watch again, before putting his arm down. "Not like him."

"Like who?" Dean's itching to pull the trigger.

"My name's Crowley, by the way." Crowley says. "I've met Sam before, of course, and you're welcome by the way, Sam." Crowley raises an amused brow in his direction, fiddling with his shirt cuffs. "But I've never met the rest of you, but I can guess the man with the gun is Dean, from reasonable deduction."

" 'm Jo," Jo says, ignoring her mother trying to shush her, "That's my mom, Ellen."

"Pleasure," Crowley says. He checks his watch again, his face impassive.

"Sorry, I'm late," another voice said hurriedly and Ellen levels the shotgun in it's direction, "It took a bit longer than I had- _oh dear_." The man stops talking, eyes on Jo.

"Well, it would take a _miracle,_ " Crowley says, hinting.

"Right," the other man say. "Right, er, sorry. Can I?" He asks, gesturing at Jo and Ellen is surprised enough to step aside. The man kneels beside Jo, one hand barely touching her. Jo gives a surprised shout, her skin starts to knit itself together.

"Thank you." Crowley says irritably.

"I _said_ I was sorry." the other man snaps back, and Crowley looks at him, surprised. "Sorry." the other man says weakly.

"What the hell are you?" Dean demands, leveling the shotgun.

"I'm Crowley and he's Aziraphale, do keep up." Crowley retorts, fixing his jacket. "Shall we, Angel?"

"Castiel shall be back in a bit." Aziraphale says cheerfully. Sam has never been more confused in his life. "Er, ta."

They vanish.

(lucifer was a bit more proactive.)

(and michael always knew what his brother was doing)


	4. Chapter 4

There's nothing on either of them." Bobby says, snapping his book shut. "Not in the Lexicon, both versions, or in any demonic book." He scowls.

"Crowley was in my dream the first time around," Sam says.

"Which one?" Dean asks snappishly, skimming through a book that's twice as big as his head.

"Sunglasses," Sam elaborates. "He arrived, and, uh, Lucifer followed him out."

"The other one gave us bad intel." Dean says when Bobby asks for more information. "Nearly got the Harvelle's killed." There's a faint _ssh_ sound and Sam looks down, only to give a surprised yelp and draw up his feet. There's a medium sized snake underneath it. "Sam?"

"Snake!"

"Oh, you idgit. It won't bite ya." Bobby gets up and disappears into the kitchen, reappearing with a bucket. The snake leisurely comes out of it's hiding place. Sam swears that it winks at him. Bobby catches it and puts it outside. "They get in sometimes when morons leave the door open." Dean winces.

(hey, where did michael go?)

(didn't you hear? he threw lucifer into the pit!)

(but where is he?)

(i don't know)


	5. Chapter 5

"Ah, you want to be fit."

The man's eyes seem to glint in the darkness. Gary can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He nods, slowly, wondering if he had made an enormous mistake in summoning this demon.

"Well," it says, and it unfolds a pair of sunglasses and puts them on, "I can do that." He seems mischievous, suddenly. "You just have to do one little thing for me."

"I-I have to give you my soul?" Gary stammers out.

"No," the demon says. "Actually, I want you to give someone a message."

When Dean and Sam drop Gary and Nora off, Gary hesitates. "Um." He says, and Dean freezes.

"What." Dean says, lowly, irritated.

"I'm supposed to tell you that, um." He falters under the force of the twin bitch faces he receives, "That, um. You're looking in the entirely, um, wrong direction. For Crowley."

"Excuse me?" Sam says.

"He said," Gary said, "He said, Crowley, that is, that he used to be a bit crawly, and then he started laughing. But he said it was meant for you, so."

"What!" It's both Winchesters in unison and they start towards Gary, murder written in both their faces. Gary and Nora stumble backwards hurriedly.

"That's all he said, I swear!" Gary yelps and ducks into his apartment, Nora following after him.

"What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?" Sam demands to an uncaring world.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

(crowley and aziraphale have known each other for a very long time.)

(they've never met michael or lucifer before they were stationed.)

(or gabriel. or raphael.)


	6. Chapter 6

"Crawly," Bobby mutters, tearing through another book. "Where the hell have I heard that?" The name, in any written variation, doesn't appear in the book. He pauses. " _Crawly_." He sets the book down and reaches for the King James bible.

 _Genesis 3_

 _Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast in the field in which the LORD God has made. And he said to the woman, "Has God indeed said, 'You shall not eat of every tree of the garden'?"_

Crawly. _Crowley_. The name was an obvious pun. But there was something niggling in the back of his brain. Something wasn't _right_. He scowled and started to flip through it.

"Something's missing from translation." He said, scowling. "Or, in a different version." He placed a bookmark on the page and shut the book consideringly more gently than the previous one. He got up and went his landline. "Yeah excuse me, can I place a shipment for these books?" He started listing them off, from memory. "Thanks."

"What the hell is it?" Bobby demanded of the empty room. "What's _missing_?"

(do you think i'll be demoted?)

(as _if_.)

(good point, uh.)

(i'm going by crawly, now.)

(always liked the name aziraphale.)

(you're not funny.)


	7. Chapter 7

The bell jingles as someone enters the shop. Aziraphale ignores it, intent on his spanking-new miswritten bible. The person entering appears next to him, glancing at the title before smirking at him. Aziraphale draws the book further up his face to cover it. There's a clunk as Crowley places two bottles of wine on the counter. "Close up the shop."

Aziraphale looks at the bottles of wine and nearly falls out of his chair when he catches sight of the labels. "Where on _earth_ did you get these?!"

Crowley tilts the bottle so the wine sloshes and he can see the label. "Oh. Some man wanted to always get what he wanted so I got him to give me these." Crowley smirks.

"Oh, was that…" Aziraphale asks.

"He'll be dead November of next year." Crowley says before Aziraphale can say anything. He shoves his sunglasses further up his nose. "We've got time, anyway."

"Why's that?" The sign over the door flips over to CLOSED and the shutters fall shut. "Back room?"

"Anyone of importance is in 1978." Crowley tells him as they vanish into the backroom. "Anal decided to take out the parents."

"She should know better," Aziraphale said, taking out the wine glasses, "She does know better than that." He gives Crowley one of the glasses and uncorks the wine bottle.

"Neither of has been where we're supposed be for years," Crowley says, watching as Aziraphale poured them each a glass, "Standards change." He takes a sip of wine.

"No," Aziraphale replies, "Something isn't quite right."

"We aren't doing this," Crowley says, swirling the wine in his glass, "I mean it this time."

Aziraphale snorts He sips at his wine. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"No," Crowley snickers, "But, let's get drunk."

They finish their glasses, and the wine bottles vanish to be replaced with whiskey. "Ta." Aziraphale says, echoed by Crowley as they clink the glasses-turned-tumblers together.

(crowley and aziraphale had an arrangement before there was an Arrangement.


	8. Chapter 8

"This is incredibly stupid." Crowley hisses. His eyes are trained on the bar. "I can't believe I'm doing this." Famine sips at something vaguely alcoholic and watches as two people eyes glaze briefly and clear up just as rapidly. He scowls and settles against the roof. "Come _on_ , you know I'm here."

The horseman scowls, slamming his drink down. Crowley scowls as the man storms out of the bar and into the building Crowley's on the roof.

"Are you fucking _serious_?" The horseman demands, slamming open the door and slamming it closed.

"Come off it." Crowley shouts back, remaining where he was. "You bloody know well I'm serious."

Famine snarls and tugs off the ring. Crowley catches and pockets it when Famine throws it over. "I hate you so bloody much." Famine snaps.

"Go _away._ " Crowley snaps backs. Famine vanishes with a displeased scowl. Crowley takes out the ring and examines it, holding it to the light. " _Sssstupid_." He hisses and vanishes with a flap of wings.

(there's war and famine and pestilence and death)

(but there's also riot, starvation, plague and the reapers)

(there's too many people for only one entity to do its job)


	9. Chapter 9

After the incident with the dead rising again, Castiel came to visit

"Dean," Castiel said. Dean yelped in surprise and nearly rolled off the couch he'd been napping on.

"What the hell Cas!" Dean demanded, sitting up properly. "Where were you?"

"My apologies." Castiel said stiffly. "But I was looking for my father and I got caught up in a territorial dispute between three succubuses and one of the original fallen." On closer inspection, Dean saw that he looked exhausted.

"Are you okay, Cas?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas said stiffly, "I am fine."

"Have you ever heard of an 'Aziraphale'?" Dean asked, changing the subject. "The angel?"

"Who?" He looked confused, "I have never heard of him."

"But, didn't he rescue you from the holy fire?" Dean asked.

"He never introduced himself." Castiel said. He moved to sit in the chair opposite Dean. "He merely put out the fire and left." He glared at Dean. "Contrary to what you think, I do not know every angel in heaven."

"What about Crawly?" Dean asked, unruffled by the glare.

"I," Castiel said, "I do not quite remember." He blinked, and focused on Dean. "Why?"

"We don't know where they stand." Dean said.

(michael hasn't been seen in a very, very long time)


	10. Chapter 10

There's a knock on his door. Aziraphale pauses in the making ( _burning,_ Crowley would say all too gleefully) of his tea, looking directly at the shop door. "You may as well as come in, Castiel." He finishes, takes a sip, and winces. He let the tea steep for too long.

The bell jingles as Castiel enters through the front door. Aziraphale sips at his ruined tea, expression serene. "You got me free." Castiel says.

"Yes, and?" Aziraphale asks. He places the tea on the counter. "Surely that isn't what you came in for?"

"No," Castiel says. "The Winchester are in Heaven and I," He pauses. "I can't bring them back by myself."

Aziraphale shrugs. "Of course you can't." He smiles. "Very well, let's go fetch them."

Seconds after they vanish, Crowley bangs in through the back door. He's holding another ring that has a sickly shine to it. "Angel, I've got two of the rings, so all we need is…" He reels back. "Oh bloody fuck." He scowls and slams both rings on the counter before hissing at Aziraphale's houseplants and the plants immediately straighten up and look a bit greener.

(crowley likes sunglasses and three-piece suits.)

(aziraphale likes his sweatervests and his books)

(it's a very stereotypical view of good and evil)


	11. Chapter 11

**To Ann, the guest reviewer. Nice guess! But I can't confirm or deny if you're right. And, anyway, here's me taking pity on all of the guest reviewers, it's supposed to be confusing. *cackles***

Aziraphale's bookstore's a funny place, Crowley thinks. He glares at the throng of people outdoors, fiddling with the rings. The doorbell rings and Crowley smirks. Serves the angel right if he sold some of his collection. "Bloody angel."

"Excuse me," Someone says, and Crowley nearly falls out of his seat. He blesses under his breath and shoves his sunglasses up his nose from where they had started to slip. "Do you have a copy of a _Pearl of Great Price_?"

"No." Crowley said mulishly, glaring at the girl. "Go away," He sniffed and poked curiously at one of the buttons on the register. It made a 'ding' noise and Crowley was mildly amused.

"Alright," the girl says, seemingly oblivious to Crowley's glare. "I'll go look around then."

"Whore," Crowley coughed.

"I'm sorry?" The Whore of Babylon turned around.

"Enjoy our selection." Crowley said pleasantly, poking another button. The register popped open and Crowley slammed it shut. "I think you'd enjoy the _Supernatural_ series." The girl stiffened, but vanished into the stacks. He snickered.

The bell jingled as another person entered the shop. Crowley ignored them. There were more buttons to be pushed after all. "Um, excuse me." Crowley pointedly ignored the person speaking, "But do you have a copy of the King James Bi- _Crowley_?"

"Sam," Crowley greets neutrally. Another button on the register is pushed.

Sam's mouth and closes. "Are you really in charge of the shop?"

"Unfortunately." Crowley says with a sniff "The owner of the shop went on an ill-advised vacation and left me in charge. I'm thinking of changing the decor." Hot pink and leopard skins would be a fantastic start.

"Ok," Sam said, a little blankly, "What the hell are you planning?"

Crowley gave him a bland look. Sam jumped a little when someone in the stacks gave a short sharp scream. Crowley snickered. The girl staggered out of the stacks, the ends of her hair blackened. "Did you find what you were looking for?" He asked innocently.

"That was witchcraft!" The girl said dramatically.

"No," Crowley said, barely suppressing snickers, "Just a basic knowledge of chemistry." He paused. "Did you do something with your hair?"

The girl growled and slammed her books on the counter.

Crowley just looked at the books and smiled sunnily. "I don't work here."

The girl's jaw dropped and Sam swore he could see murder in her eyes. "Right." She gritted out. She left the books on the counter and moved towards the front door. "I'm sure you'll be useful later."

Crowley twitched. "I don't think so, _Leah_."

Sam tensed. Crowley stood, and fingered his sunglasses. "Really?" Leah asked, teasing. "Let's discuss this away from prying ears."

"Oh, I don't think ssssso." Crowley said. He moved to stand in front of the counter, close to Sam.

"Did you just hiss?" Sam asked.

Crowley and Leah ignored him. If there was space, they'd be circling each other like a pair of predators. Leah lunged, and Crowley shoved Sam aside before moving out of the way of the tackle. Leah hit the counter, and Crowley picked her up and tossed her into the shelves of books like a rag doll. Crowley was on top of her before Sam could blink, reaching inside of his coat for something. Leah twisted out Crowley's grip, and Crowley was kicked off.

Sam scrambled upright.

Crowley staggered upright, shaking his head. He was holding onto a stake with a white-knuckled grip. "Oh," he said, moving his jaw a little. He grinned. Crowley lunged, and backed off. Leah fell to the ground with a thud, the stake sticking straight up from her stomach.

"What the hell?" Sam said, lowering the gun a little.

Crowley shoved the sunglasses up his nose. "The Whore of Babylon." He said, dementedly cheerful.

"What?" Sam said.

"I made the bad monster go away." Crowley said snappishly. He squatted and plucked a book out of the mess. He tossed it to Sam, who fumbled the catch. "The King James, free of charge."

Sam blinked. He was outside of a coffee shop and the bookstore was gone.

(lisa i am so, so sorry.)

(dean? what's the matter?)

(you and ben are gonna be safe. okay?)


	12. Chapter 12

Two men are facing off.

They aren't really men, but they're both British.

"Crowley," says the taller one.

"Crowley," the shorter one greets back.

They sit.

"This is an honor," the shorter Crowley says cautiously. "What brings the serpent here?"

"Boredom," the taller Crowley says, "Curiosity. We haven't talked in such a long time, I'm sure you understand."

(*)(*)(*)

Aziraphale straightens his vest and knocks on the door of a two story house. A young boy answers it.

"Hello Jesse," Aziraphale says, "Is Adam home?"

Jesse nods, turns and bellows into the house. "ADAM!"

Adam careens down the stairs, messy haired and filled with excited youth. He stops dead when he sees Aziraphale. "Let's talk outside." Adam says.

(*)(*)(*)

"Do you know where any of the other fallen are?" Crowley asks, leaning back in his chair.

"Is that all you want?"

"Just give me a bloody list."

Crowley winced. "That's an awkward question," Crowley says to the taller Crowley, "Azazel's dead, Beelzebub's trapped somewhere, and the rest are dead."

Crowley grinned. He vanished when Crowley turned away to shuffle paperwork around.

(*)(*)(*)

"No," Adam said, "I'm not interested in the is Jesse"

"That's all I needed to know."

Aziraphale vanishes when Adam turns to go back into the house.

(i don't trust you.)

(i don't trust you either)

(let's be friends, crowley.)

(the best of friends, crowley.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Anon (aka the person that doesn't have an account, or didn't bother to sign in), I can't confirm or deny that Crowley of the sunglasses is God, or that Aziraphale is Satan. I can confirm that I receive great joy in confusing the fuck out of everyone with the parentheses and the guessing of identities and everything else. *evil laughter***

There was a light thud as Aziraphale landed. He looked around curiously, and entered the warehouse. He stopped just inside the doors, where a demon was grinning at him.

"This is the green room?" Crowley asked. He kicked a wall. "Not much."

Aziraphale sighed and opened a random door. It opened onto a brick wall. "Odd," Aziraphale said. He touched it lightly and the bricks began to glow gold. Crowley move to stand next to him.

"He's gone," Crowley told Aziraphale.

"Yes," Aziraphale said, "Unfortunate."

"I hope that this doesn't turn out to be like Adam." Crowley said mildly, and laughed when Aziraphale shoved him.

"Horrible pun." Aziraphale said reproachfully.

Crowley snickered. "There's nothing here." He said. "We should leave."

"I'm telling you," Aziraphale said, "That something isn't right here."

"One problem at a time," Crowley snapped, "The apocalypse is more important that whatever has your goat." He sighed. "Anyway, did you get that invitation?"

"Yes." Aziraphale said. He dug through his pockets, unearthing several sweets, a grimoire that in no way should have been able to fit in his pocket, several handfuls of loose change, two cellphones and finally, the wrinkled invitation. It straightened itself out as soon as Aziraphale

"Lovely," Crowley said cheerfully, brandishing his own spotless invite.

There was a clink as something fell over. They both stiffened at the sudden noise and vanished with a flap of wings.

(we have to hide.)

(i trust you)


	14. Chapter 14

_Ding!_

Mercury turned around with a smile. "Lucifer, thanks for coming."

"Oh you did right calling me." Lucifer says, running his fingers against the grain of the wood that served as the reception desk. He raised them to eye level. They were dusty.

Several minutes after Lucifer vanishes deeper into hotel, the door opens. Crowley enters first, with Aziraphale on his heels. "Oh," Aziraphale says, and moves to close Mercury's eyes.

Screams echo from the further in.

"Let's go." Aziraphale says, and Crowley follows after him this time.

Lucifer pauses, letting Gabriel drop to the floor. He turns to the entrance. Gabriel, pale and shaking, scrambles several feet backwards.

Crowley and Aziraphale enter the room. "Hello," Crowley says mildly.

Lucifer narrows his eyes. "I'm not giving it back."

"I'm sorry to interrupt this beautiful standoff," Gabriel says stiffly, and all eyes turn towards him, "But who the hell are you two?"

Lucifer laughed. Crowley and Aziraphale stiffened. "Oh, he doesn't _know_!" Lucifer cackles, "He doesn't remember!"

"What the fuck are you on about!" Gabriel demanded.

"Bloody fuck." Aziraphale said. It was the first time he had swore in over fifty years.

(why aren't we supporting the apocalypse again?)

(i like earth, don't you?)


	15. Chapter 15

Because this is Good Omens, it gets a bit ridiculous. But hopefully, in character.

"I'm not telling him," Crowley said immediately. "Nose goes." He touched one elegant finger to his nose and wilted when neither Aziraphale or Lucifer did the same.

"I'm not doing it," Lucifer said.

Both Crowley and Lucifer turned expectantly to Aziraphale. "You're older," Crowley said hopefully as Gabrielle watched in mute shock.

"But," Aziraphale tried.

"He's doing it," Lucifer said agreeably.

"Aziraphale's explaining." Crowley said brightly. "And you," Crowley turned to Lucifer, "We need to talk. Now."

"Oh?" Lucifer asked lowly, dangerously.

Crowley, who had never had any sort of common sense in his life, grabbed Lucifer's arm and hauled him bodily to just outside the room. Gabriel could hear the start of a loud hissed conversation starting up.

"This is awkward," Aziraphale said worriedly, wringing his hands, "You really don't recognize either of us?'

"Nuh-uh." Gabriel said, comfortably sprawled on the floor.

"How did Crowley put it?" Aziraphale wondered, "Ah, yes. Like ripping off a plaster." 

Gabriel made a go on motion and started wondering which country to disappear in and

whether or not Thor was still pissed with him. Coyote would put him up, but Anansi would be a better bet…

"Please don't do anything violent, Gabriel," Aziraphale said nervously, and Gabriel starts a little because he hadn't introduced himself, "But, you may know me better as your older brother Michael."

~.~.~.~

Okay, really, who could blame him for throwing his sword at his older brother once Mikey had flashed his wings? That's right! Nobody. Though his head hurts a little from when...are you fucking kidding me?

WHY IS MY LIFE A FUCKING LIE- An autobiography written by the Archangel Gabriel and published by YOU IDJITS co.

(sssso.)

(no.)

(fine)


	16. Chapter 16

Crowley slams Lucifer into the wall as soon as they're through the doorway and holds him in place effortlessly with one hand.

"Oh, are you mad?" Lucifer asks with a little twist to his mouth, "Because, honestly, what did you expect me to do Crowls?"

"You bloody idiot," Crowley hisses, his sunglasses slipping from his nose, "You sssssstupid bloody idiot." His free hand comes up and removes his sunglasses, slipping them into a pocket of his immaculate suit. "What in the name of _me_ were you thinking?"

"You?" Lucifer asks dangerously, his body temperature dropping rapidly. One of his dangling hands comes up to rest on the hand Crowley's using to pin him to the wall. Ice begins to form on his suit. "You left _us_ for the being that _cast us down_ and you're _surprised_?"

Crowley dropped him. Observed him. "You need to give the grace you stole back," He said. "It is, quite literally, killing you."

"It is." Lucifer agreed mildly.

"You could, you know, alssssssssso ssssstop pretending to me." Crowley suggested. "Jussssst a thought."

"I could." Not-really-Lucifer agreed.

"Are you conssidering, Beelzebub?" Crowley asked pointedly.

Beelzebub pretended to consider while Crowley bitched under his breath about other people stealing his things. He wasn't stupid. Crowley- _Lucifer_ \- would take the very small amount of grace he had before he had whether or not he surrendered it willingly. "Oh what the _hell_." He said, and fished in his pocket for the every small vial he had been leeching grace off of. "It's not like you wouldn't get this back sooner or later." The vial was glowing a bright sharp red.

Crowley smashed it on the wall. The grace became blinding, before vanishing.

They shook hands, rather awkwardly, because Beelzebub was still on the floor.

"Besides," Beelzebub said slyly as Crowley cut eyes towards him, "I'd be more concerned with Heaven than Hell at the moment."

"A _name_." Crowley demanded.

Beelzebub laughed. "There's too many to count." He vanished.

Crowley hissed in agitation and shoved his sunglasses back on his face. He stalked back into the main room and intercepted a sword on instinct that was being winged at his brother. He threw it back at Gabriel, hilt first.

"LUCIFER!" Aziraphale scolded.

"My life," Gabriel moaned while clutching his head pathetically, "is a lie! A lie!"

"Oh belt up!" Crowley snapped and yelped when Aziraphale swatted him upside the head.

(what is this thing?)

(don't you dare drop whatever it is lucifer.)

(i _won't_ michael. but seriously, what is this gross thing. it's drooling on me! father!)

(it's your youngest brother, gabriel)

(Why didn't you give it to Raphael?)

(take care of him.)


	17. Chapter 17

It's been fifteen minutes and Gabriel is still going on and on and _on_ like a twelve-year-old girl that's been dumped by her boyfriend. Crowley has made a bowl of popcorn.

Aziraphale has been trying to shut Gabriel up with every method that parents use on toddlers without using food or violence. It isn't working.

Crowley sighs. The popcorn bowl vanishes from his hands. A chocolate bar appears in his hand and he lobs it at Gabriel, and Gabriel- very much the special child- shoves it into his mouth without appearing to unwrap it.

"Are you over your crisis?" Crowley asks.

"No," Gabriel replies snappishly. He's pouting.

"Yes." Aziraphale says, polite in a very distinct Moriarty fashion that _screams_ that if the other person doesn't comply then that person _will_ be thrown through the nearest window.

"Jolly good." Crowley says happily. "Gabriel, what do you know of the current political structure of heaven?"

(honestly, a devil and an angel working togethor?0

(he smirks)

(aziraphale chuckles softly and turns the page in his book)


	18. Chapter 18

The radio is blaring out Highway to Hell, Sam's napping in the passenger seat and Dean is idly plotting cover stories as Crowley-With-Sunglasses appears in the backseat. Dean yells in shock and swerves, Sam startles awake and aims a gun at their suddenly acquired passenger in the backseat.

Another second passes by and the other Crowley appears in the backseat.

The two Crowleys look at each other with narrowed, well Dean assumes that Sunglasses eyes are narrowed, eyes before nodding tightly at each other and taking up the back seat with insufferable smugness and Britishness.

"Hello boys," Crowley purrs, and Sunglasses chokes back a snicker.

Crowley goes on to explain his stalking habit, and Sunglasses only lounges in the backseat, smirking insufferably. They have a new target.

"Well," Sunglasses drawls, "Ignoring the demon of dubious sexuality," And Crowley shrugs, uncaring, "But Gabriel, you remember him, right?, nobody's found his body."

He snickers again, smirks at Dean, smiles a bit more genuinely at Sam, and vanishes.

Dean scowls, Crowley vanishes as well, and turns the car east.

(crowley.)

(crowley.)

(as one, _bloody winchesters._ )


	19. Chapter 19

Aziraphale glowers at a wall.

It's a normal brick wall, all things considered. It's red, freshly bricked and not even graffitied on yet.

But, there's one thing wrong with the wall.

In blood, there lies a sigil that never should have been known.

They haven't spotted him yet, which is to some relief, because it gives him time to figure out a gameplan. His secret identity is _gone_ , and he can't leave the area until the blood dries.

Naomi hasn't seen him yet. She's pacing, wearing a hole in the ground, face going whiter and whiter with each step she takes.

"Hello." Aziraphale says, after several moments.

She starts, whirling around to face him. She's alone. "Michael?" Naomi asks, more of a confirmation.

Aziraphale shrugs.

"Why haven't you shown yourself?" She's irritated, voice going soft.

Aziraphale doesn't much care. "Because Father has not ordained this Apocalypse." He says, his voice mild. "Therefore, it is not required for me to do much of anything."

"He is _dead_ ," Naomi says, "Aren't you tired?"

Aziraphale doesn't reply. He watches her, taking her in for several minutes. "What have you been doing?"

"What?" It throws her off.

"Naomi," Aziraphale says pleasantly, and Naomi takes an automatic step back as he starts to approach, "What have you been doing? I have met with several other angels, all of which should have recognized me, and angels have been dying left, right and center. Angels that should never have left their duties to _become_ soldiers. So the question is, Naomi, what have you been _doing_?"

"What had to be done." She says frostily.

"And what had to be done?" Aziraphale asks.

Instead of answering, she vanishes. Aziraphale scowls on his normal pleasant face and follows after her.

He lands nearly on top of her and there's a brief scuffle as they orientate themselves. He doesn't waste a second and pins her to the wall. " _What have you done_?"

"I wiped their memories." She says, and Aziraphale pins her tighter. "There was unrest. It had to be done in order to prevent open war."

"And you did it again and _again_." Aziraphale says. "Where was Raphael?"

"He knew." Naomi says, "He didn't care."

"There will be no apocalypse," Michael says, soft and dangerous. "There will be no more wiping of memory. You pass that along, and when I finish here, perhaps I will take pity."

He drops her. She disappears before she hits the floor.

(michael is not always aziraphale.)

(lucifer is not always crowley)


	20. Chapter 20

"We're missing the Famine and Pestilence rings." Sam says. Dean grunts in acknowledgement, lounging on the motel couch. A loose spring digs into his back. "I'm surprised that Pestilence wasn't at the lab."

"Yeah," Dean says, and turns on the TV, muting it shortly after. "We don't have Death's either." He bites his lip. "D'you think that Crowley knows where they are?"

"Which one?" Sam asks, rooting around in his duffle for something. Dean thinks it might be his cell.

"Douchecanoe." Dean says. Sam makes an offended noise at the curse and Dean flips him off.

"How would we get in touch?" Sam wonders idly and Dean just turns and _looks_ at him. "Oh. Right." He digs out his cell and his laptop to look for something online.

"Do we even get wifi?" Dean asked curiously.

"Dean we always get wifi." Sam says, with a shifty look to the door.

Dean unmutes the TV and starts idly watching the news.

(two brothers, an angel, an archangel, two identity-confused supernatural beings, and a demon, and a cranky hunter.)

(sounds like a beginning to a bad joke.)


	21. Chapter 21

Sam falls asleep with his feet hanging off the side of the bed and his brother doing something suspicous to his bottle of shampoo. When his dream shifts from someone giving him fresh-baked cookies to someone belting out the lyrics to the Bohemian Rhapsody, he figures that Lucifer invaded his dreams.

Again.

"What?" Someone who is decidedly not Sam or Lucifer says, confused. The song stops. "Angel?"

It's Crowley with the sunglasses.

His suit is mussed, and he's holding a wine bottle so tight that his knuckles stand out in stark relief against his skin. He's well on his way to being drunk. "Why," Crowley says, straightening his suit with an indignant huff, "Does this alwayssssss happen to me?"

"Did you just hiss?" Sam asks, forever the younger brother that has learned to take what opportunities he can.

"No," Crowley says sulkily, which means he definitely just did. "I think I need to lay off the liquor," He says, a little mournfully.

"Why are you in my head?" Sam asks.

"Was someone else supposed to be in this great big empty moose skull of yours?" Crowley sneers. The alcohol vanishes. "I hope I'm not getting replaced."

" _Lucifer_." Sam hisses.

Crowley laughs. He takes off and folds up his sunglasses, placing them in his suit pocket. His eyes are yellow, and reptilian. "Almost," Crowley says, "Though I'm afraid that the being you knew as Lucifer wasn't really him."

"What?" Sam asks.

"J-B- _Something fuck, are you kidding me_?" Crowley demands. "Do I need to spell it out for you? Hi, my is Crowley, but I wasn't always Crowley, because I used to be Lucifer, ta! Bloody _Winchesters_. Your name is another bloody word for simple-minded in the pits, did you know? Course, that's with the demons that haven't met you personally yet."

"I'm sorry?" Sam asks.

Crowley swears vividly for several minutes, while Sam goes back over what Crowley had just said. Oh. _Oh._

"...and there wouldn't be any decent music, and that's not even mentioning the food. Oh, the _food_. All they have in the pit is human entrails roasted over a nice hot bed of souls, and let me tell you, no matter what Hastur (he's a bloody great _moron_ ) says, they do _not taste like chicken._ I don't want to be stuck with that _Canadian_. As a matter of fact, he's a great reason all on his own not to have Apocolypse part two, only to make sure I don't have to listen to him... _what_?" Crowley demands, halting in the middle of his rant. He crosses his arms, the inhuman eyes trained on Sam. Crowley seems to be pouting.

"You're Lucifer?" Sam says with no amount of disbelief. "And you don't want to blow to the earth to make it your playground?"

"Were you paying attention at all?" Crowley moans, throwing his hands up in the air.

"No." Sam says frankly.

"If I blew up the earth," Crowley said slowly, as if speaking to a very small child, "Then Aziraphale would make his "disappointed" and "you have to come to church with me" and not to mention "you get to babysit Adam" faces." They're the kind of faces that make you do what they want." Crowley says sagely, "They're also the kind of faces that communicate "they will never find the body" really well."

"So basically," Sam says, "You don't want to take over the world because you don't want to go to church."

"Well," says Crowley, raising an eyebrow, "I am Satan. Who said my motives had to be understandable?"

( _it's rude to interrupt people when they're in the middle of a rant!)_


	22. Chapter 22

Dean fell asleep after putting glitter in Sam's shampoo.

He figured out someone was in his head faster than Sam had, mainly because he didn't remember the last time he had a pleasant dream.

"Sorry," Someone says sheepishly, and Dean turns.

His first impression is _short_. His second one _this guy is hiding something._

"And who the hell are you?" Dean demands.

"I've been going by Aziraphale." The angel says mildly.

Been. _He's been._ Dean is not, by any means, an idiot.

"What's your name?" Dean demands again.

The man shrugs. "You already know, don't you?"

Strangely enough, he does. It's the way the man is standing, how his feet are place and how he's looking at Dean. "Michael." Dean says warily.

Michael smiles. It's sincere, and that's what puts Dean off.

"There won't be an apocalypse." Michael says. "That's all, really."

He disappears.

Dean wakes up.

(crowley, have a drink.)

(aren't you supposed to be promoting abstinence?)


	23. Chapter 23

chapter 23

Two men- they aren't really men, of course- sit in the most expensive restaurant in London. They calmly sip at their wine.

"Let's get roaring drunk," The devil suggests.

"I thought you'd never ask." The angel says.

They vanish, leaving behind a half-eaten meal, empty wine glasses and a substantial tip.

-.-.-.-

"Bees!" Crowley said, waving his wine bottle, "They're, They're disappearing, they are! Almost gone!"

"Yes," Aziraphale said, with all seriousness, leaning so far forward that he was almost falling off the couch. "Bees. How can they fly?"

"Dunno." Crowley said, and took a long swing of the bottle. "Stupid. We were, not bees. Bees are good. Like Hufflepuffs."

"What the hell is a Hufflepuff?" Aziraphale asked confusedly, "Are they bees?"

"You're a Hufflepuff," Crowley said to the lamp. "I'm a Slytherin."

"No, no." Aziraphale said, "You'd be with me. Cause. Cause of the _alliance._ " He paused. "Why are we stupid?"

"Cause we told." Crowley said miserably. "Should not have told them. Cause they are _dumb_ as a box of rocks. Wait. No, dumber."

"They are not," Aziraphale said mulishly, "Jest a little dumb."

Crowley shrugged.

They got even more roaringly drunk and passed out on the couches.

(not such a great idea)


	24. Chapter 24

( **how the fuck did this get to twenty five pages?)**

Dean Winchester watched his younger brother sleep, drooling against the window pane. It was quiet for once, only the indistinguishable words of the radio coming through.

He liked it. It was of course, faintly ominous, and a little boring, but Dean had learned to appreciate the quiet moments. The sun was shining brightly, getting into his eyes if he looked out the front window. He'd have to get gas soon, along with some coffee so he could stay awake just a little longer.

"It is quiet, isn't it?" Someone draws from the backseat, and Dean whirls around, gun out and aimed at the smirking ex-archangel in the back.

"Lucifer," Dean hisses vehemently.

"Ta," Crowley says. "Prefer Crowley, if it's all the same to you."

Dean says nothing.

"You're done, Winchester," Crowley says after a long, long moment. "You're at the end of the rainbow. You won the bloody race. Me and Zira are going to, well metaphorically speaking, reform heaven. Possibly hell."

"What?" Dean says.

Crowley snickers. He disappears when Dean blinks.

(all was well)


	25. epilouge

God, yes him the almighty please don't bow, pours Himself a drink from the bar, watching Dean wake up Sam and them both freaking out.

"There's always a possibility for a sequel, of course," He says to thin air, taking a long slow sip of His drink. "Of course, that only happens if I can finish this game of Skeezeball."

The door slams open and Gabriel bounces through with two buxom babes and two overly muscular guys and freezes. "Oh my Dad." He says, spotting his father. "OH MY DAD!"

"Now, son, I can explain."

"OH MY- IS NOBODY DEAD AND GONE ANYMORE?"

 _The end~_


End file.
